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“Mmm. Sure. Hold on tight, Princess.”
I haven’t been on the back of Ringer’s bike since I was 15. Back then, I used to fantasize about riding behind him, not as a little girl, not as the daughter of one of his club brother’s, but as his. His ol’ lady.
Some women hate the term. Even I find it a little sexist. But there is something about the thought of being Ringer’s ol’ lady that does something to my insides. My heart mainly, but especially something down lower.
Ringer revs the engine before taking off. The vibration of the powerful machine between my legs elicits the same yearnings as the simple thought of him between my legs does. I hold tightly onto his abdomen as he takes off, flying down the open road.
I’ve always loved riding with my dad, but there is something to be said about riding behind a man that holds a very special place in your life.
It takes a disappointing amount of time to get to the shop. Unfortunately, that’s the reality of living in a smaller town. Sometimes those quick commutes are a blessing, but other times they suck.
As soon as Ringer parks in an open space, he holds his hand out, waiting for me to get off. “Why is it you needed to come here?”
A smile pulls at my lips. “I bought a van for deliveries and your dad redid it for me.”
“Ah,” he nods, and I follow behind him as we make our way across the parking lot towards the shop.
“Lilah! Ringer!” Bones greets us. “Where’s your car, Princess?” he asks, looking behind us from his spot at the open bay door.
“Flat,” I say with a groan. “I know. I know. I should’ve had a spare. But I never replaced the other one.”
“She also didn’t call me for help,” Ringer grumbles.
“I would’ve called, Bones, but my phone is dead. Forgot to plug it in last night.”
“When I pulled up a stranger was pulled over with her,” Ringer says, scowling once again.
“And like I already told you,Ringer, I told him I had a gun and that I know how to shoot.”
Bones chuckles at our banter and nods at one of his workers, Benji. “Go ahead and drag ’er back here so we can get her fixed up.”
“Got it,” Benji mutters. “See ya later, Lilah.”
“Thank you, Benji!” I call after him as he hustles out to the tow truck.
I giggle at Ringer’s ever present glare and roll my eyes as I follow behind Bones.
“Who the hell is, Benji?” Ringer aims his question at his dad.
Bones shakes his head and smiles widely, causing his crow’s feet to wrinkle. Before Bones can answer, I step in.
“You don’t remember Benji? He took me to homecoming my freshman year. We graduated together.” I’m having more fun than I could’ve imagined getting a rise out of Ringer. Who knew it would be so easy?
“Jesus, son. You worked right next to him yesterday. Turn your damn tunnel vision off,” Bones laughs heartily. “Alright, Miss Lilah, down to business. Beau finished the paint up yesterday.”
I let out a groan. I should’ve known Bones was going to let Beau paint it. After all, he is the best painter in town.
We follow behind Bones, and I let out a giggle at Ringer’s obvious pout. The smile drops immediately from my face when I see my van parked in the open parking lot behind the shop. My van is covered in the ugliest pink I have ever fucking seen, with a huge gaudy cartoon cupcake on the side.
“What the fuck is that?” I ask through clenched teeth.
Bones let out a cough. “That’s your van. Beau said you would love it. He said you love pink.”
“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful in the slightest, Bones, because I am so thankful you did this for me.” I take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration. “But I fucking hate pink.”
I can feel my blood pressure rising and am reminded once again why breaking up with Beau was the right call.
“Ah, come on, Princess. It’s not that bad,” Ringer lays a supportive hand on my shoulder.
